


Like a Suitcase of Memories (A Gay Bachelor AU)

by gigglyliam



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Firefighter Liam, Gay Bachelor, I know this already exists but I just felt like making my own, M/M, Photographer Harry, Reality TV, Teacher Louis, Too Many Song References?, larry stylinson - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-09 23:00:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15278085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gigglyliam/pseuds/gigglyliam
Summary: Louis Tomlinson lost at the Gay Bachelor once, but something compels him to try again. Thank God for people like Harry Styles.(AKA: This is literally just a gay version of the Bachelor TV Show because I felt compelled to)Teacher!LouisPhotographer!HarryTitle is from "Knives" By Matoma & Frenship





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Howdy ho, Ranger Joe, this is something I whipped up this morning. If you like it, please let me know. And if you don't, my apologies

Heartbreak, humiliation, and about two thousand cases of alcoholic beverages; that’s pretty much how Louis Tomlinson summed up his experience on the smash hit television show The Bachelor.

He hadn’t even wanted to be on the damn show in the first place. His mother and sisters were addicted, like the rest of America, hopelessly devoted to planting their asses right into their worn-in couch cushions every Monday night, eager to watch another unrealistic love story play itself out for their consumption. Who in their right state of mind would want their awkward love story to be watched by literally millions of people? All the while having the person you’re supposed to be falling for stringing along twenty other men at the same time.

Reality television his ass.

Stan set him up with an audition because he thought it was fucking hilarious really, and Stan had always been a complete asshole at heart with no real sense of dignity or regard for his supposed mates’ wellbeing. Louis sure knew how to pick ‘em. 

It had all been laughs at the expense of a lame joke until the producers continued to make call after call back to the brown-haired boy, eating up his sarcastic wit and model-esque good looks (as his mother so dotingly phrased it). And before he knew it, Louis fucking Tomlinson was being offered a free vacation all across the globe, with unlimited alcohol privileges and maybe some fun eye candy to make some memories with. Sure, he considered himself an idiot, but not enough of one to pass up what was sure to be at least a fun story to tell his future grandkids about the stupidity of produced shows and “true love”. But then he met Patrick. 

Patrick Hummel had been on the sister show, The Bachelorette, the season previous to Louis’ entrance, always a fan favorite. The newspaper editor had strawberry blonde hair and blue eyes that captivated all of America, so much so, that there was literal public uproar when Brenna sent him home. The bastardly woman. Patrick wore his heart on his sleeve, and even Louis can’t lie and say that he didn’t wipe away a tear when the man confessed to Brenna that his father had passed away from cancer only a few months prior, and that he wanted to have a love story just like his late father and his still devoted, now widowed, mother.

He’d made it all the way to the hometown visits before he was given the boot, which was horrendously tasteless in Louis’ opinion. What kind of a sick producer thought THAT was a good idea? Sure! Let’s let him introduce who he thinks is his future wife to his poor widowed mother, weeping tears of joy over this perception of true romance, only to have said future bride wave goodbye a night later, the curtain pulled down to end the entire romantic summer façade. 

It made Louis want to puke. And so, as fate would have it, Patrick Hummel became the next Bachelor, Louis’ Bachelor. Which was.. fairly alright in Louis’ mind.

He was sure he was going to be thrown off the show in the first night. Seriously, the producers had pulled out all of the stops. Model upon model strolled through the door, each suit tighter, more fitted, and more expensive than the last. Louis looked down upon his own navy suit he’d worn to a mate’s wedding with sudden distaste.

He stuck out like a sore thumb, and he pondered out loud to the chauffeur if it was too late to just turn the big fancy limo around and take him home to the airport, so he could fly home to Philly and pretend that this was all some big elaborate dream. To which the chauffeur completely ignored him and didn’t make so much as a peep in response.

Cool.

So Louis had to muster up the courage to stumble out of the limo on that chilly April night, the handsome man of his dreams standing just a few feet away on the cobblestone pavement. Louis remembered staring down at the slightly watered-down pathway, the reflection of the production lighting hitting off of the small puddles, reminding him that yes, although there were a lot of hot men awaiting him, this was, after all, a television show, and not entirely real.  


It comforted him in some way, that this could just be justified as fake and for show. So he took a deep breath and smiled, slowly walking down to meet Patrick, who was impeccably dressed in a beautifully tailored gray suit with a navy tie that appeared to match the color of Louis’ suit perfectly. 

He wasn’t even shaking as he took the Bachelor’s hands and smiled softly, letting out a small laugh. “I’m not going to lie.. I honestly asked if they could get me a flight back home real fast before I stepped out here, but.. now that I’m here with you, I don’t think I want to go home anytime soon..” It was ridiculously stupid and tremendously insanely, disgustingly cheesy, and Louis still internally retches just at the mere thought of the words slipping from his mouth, but they were the start of a love story, so no, he doesn’t regret uttering them. 

It was actually a great night after the painful introductions were made, a few quality guys scattered around with drinks and good senses of humor that Louis still would occasionally text to this day. 

Plus, yeah, the promise of literally any alcoholic beverage on hand whenever requested was nothing to scoff at. When he looks back to the first night, he still smiles fondly, thinking of how he got a bit too tipsy on his rum and cokes, a few rounds of chicken thrown in inside of the criminally large pool, and a stolen kiss peppered in during the end of a cute, casual conversation with Pat. Plus that first impression rose. It was the first hint that maybe Louis was going to be there for some time, as if Patrick wanted to prove to him that no, he wasn’t going to have to book any sudden flights in the near future. 

His heart had melted somewhere along the way, giving into the chaotic rush of it all, for all intents and purposes, falling in love with the dimpled man. Who could blame him, with all of the alcohol and romantic scenery, and the sheer fact that it was a crazy journey that these two men were sharing /together/. 

Weeks later, stumbling hand and hand down a crowded street in Italy, just Patrick and him, he confessed that he was falling. Falling hard. And Patrick had kissed him hard up against that old, stone building, assuring him that he felt exactly the same. Yeah, there were still four other contenders left, in Blake, Simon, Declan, and Ty, but for all Louis could fathom, their love had everyone else beat. 

Just like it had happened with Patrick a season beforehand, the pretty illusion came crashing down all at once. Louis and the other man had ended their one on one date, a bit of weird tension hanging in the air. Patrick sent him home as they sat on the sand, feet dipped into the cold, frothy water, the smaller boy completely unaware that he was about to be blindsided. Pat had said that he just didn’t think their relationship was as far along as the others, which Louis couldn’t entirely fathom, given that what they had was beginning to make the world feel like it was flipping on its axis. 

But maybe that was just his world, and Patrick was far away, on a different plane entirely. Some stupid plane where he was meant to fall in love with Dec and have stupid little pretty adopted twins, and okay, maybe he was still bitter. But Louis tried his best to swallow back the tears and let what he thought was the best thing in his life literally just walk off into the sunset. His summer was over, and he flew back home into his crying mother’s arms. 

But then there was a phone call, and he was being asked if he wanted to do it all over again, subject his heart to fucking torture at the expense of entertainment for the American audience. 

He definitely turned it down at first, still licking the wounds that Patrick had left him with, but he began to reason through it. Sure, it hadn’t ended well by any stretch of the word, but the last summer was amazing, filled with travel and beautiful places, and just the hint of what love he wanted in his life. Maybe he wasn’t the one for Pat, as painful as it was for him to try to accept that, but if he were the one in charge, he could make all of the decisions. He could sort through and easily find the one man for him that would do his head in, the one who would be as desperate for Louis to choose him as Louis was for his Bachelor every week on that stupid makeshift rose ceremony stage. 

And again, the free drinks. 

So, against better judgement perhaps, and with silly love coated, rose-colored glasses on, Louis Tomlinson packed his bags again to join The Bachelor for yet another season. He made sure to pack a slightly better suit this time, just to avenge his former self. So naïve he was, thinking that he and Patrick were meant to be; there was no way he was going to allow his fragile heart to break again. Not this time.


	2. Chapter 2

“Mom-.. Yes, Yes, I know.. Would you please stop crying.. MOM. This is the last phone call I’ll have with you for the next few months, you need to think more logically about your word choice.”

Louis sighed into his cellphone in his hotel room, flipping through the muted television channels. “Pick somebody who’s nice.. nice. Nice sound advice, mom. Nah, I think I’d rather go out with a dickhead, I mean honestly..”

His mother’s voice continued to drone on in the background, all protective and worrisome for her only son, and Louis understood it, he really did, but they’d been chatting for so long, building up for some great imparting of knowledge and her big piece of advice was just to ‘pick somebody nice’ and honestly, what the hell. Louis was a grown man and knew that he had to pick somebody nice, obviously. He greatly appreciated the sentiment but chose to end the conversation for his own sanity; he was nervous enough and his mother’s emotional blathering was only making him question this decision again. Why the hell was he putting himself through this mess all over again? Surely no man was going to be worth the eventual heartbreak. 

But that was his cynicism popping in again, and okay, maybe he’d drank some wine while watching the first two Harry Potter movies back to back. Or a lot of wine, actually, and now he was emotional and tired. He told his mom that he loved her as he flipped off the television, all of the light in the room suddenly going dark, leaving Louis in a sad pool of his own existence. 

Tomorrow he was going to meet herds of lovely, handsome men who were willing to put their lives on hold just to meet him, and the war flashbacks of last season would not stop playing on the stupid little screen projector thing inside of his mind, ruining the fun and excitement of it all. He huffed and pulled the red comforter far over his head, grumbling to his drunken self until he fell asleep.

That damn alarm clock shook him wide awake a few hours later, not so much unlike a military bugle, so fucking annoying, and fitting, because in a way, Louis felt like he was suiting up for war. He was definitely still mostly asleep as he stumbled his way into the shower, warm water beating down on his long hair, matting it down onto his forehead. He’d intended to get himself a haircut before the whole process began, but he figured the stylists would get him all sorted out before his big moment on camera.

And how fucked was that? To have people literally working their asses off to ensure that he looked picture perfect for these men? God bless their souls.

Not to mention the fact that he couldn’t get “Marry You” out of his head as he soaped up his skin, and sure, Louis appreciated Bruno Mars just as much as the next guy, but his brain thought itself a lot funnier than it actually was to be doing that at this time. 

‘If we wake up and you want to break up that’s cool. No, I won’t blame you. It was fun, girl.”

No, no, Louis would definitely blame the fucking dumbass that tried to pull that shit on him again. This day was certainly going well. 

The shower lasted only a few more minutes before he stepped out and brushed his teeth, watching the teal paste wash down in the drain, wondering if this would be one of the last nights he’d ever have to spend the night in a bed alone. The idea itself was intriguing, but also far too much, so he busied himself instead with getting dressed in a nice pair of black skinny jeans and an old Philadelphia Eagles tee. It was old, the collar beginning to sag down, a few small holes poking through here and there, but it reminded Louis of home, grounding him. He smiled and wondered briefly if soon he would have a partner to drag along to the freezing football games with him, if tailgates filled with cornhole and empty beer bottles and laughter would soon be in his future. Or, God help him, if one of the contestants was an ill educated fan of the Dallas Cowboys, he was going to have to beat some sense into them.

Meetings took up most of the rest of his day, running through the guidelines of what he could and could not do as the esteemed “Bachelor” of America, a title that still had him stifling a chuckle anytime someone spoke it into existence. He obviously wasn’t allowed a phone, wasn’t allowed to spend the night at the house with the rest of the guys, and along the same lines, was forbidden from inviting any of them back to his suite as well. The producers said it was to keep the “mystery” and romance alive, but Louis was fairly certain it was just because they were legally not allowed to keep the cameras rolling in their personal rooms at night. 

Like he’d anticipated, a nice woman named Paula with bleached out blonde hair in a messy bun atop her head made it her mission to give Louis the “hottest makeover in Bachelor history” which pretty much just entailed a hair trim with a bit more attention given to his fringe as well. It didn’t look half bad, and he didn’t mind the translucent powder she sprinkled over his face to get rid of the shine from the lights either, but he firmly drew the line at her trying to stencil some eyeliner into his fucking EYES to try to get them to pop. 

Sure, Louis could be narcissistic, but even he couldn’t bring himself to stoop to that level of torture to make himself look nice.

No wonder Patrick always looked so fantastic on the show, he came to realize, because there were a crew of stylists available to make sure he always looked his best, a shit ton of custom made suits already displayed on the little silver rack for him to peruse. Louis smiled, pointing to an exquisitely tailored maroon suit with small navy check patterned lines running across it. “That’s fucking hilarious, I’d look like a complete dickwad in that!” He laughed. It must have cost a couple grand to make, and Louis scoffed, which prompted him to try it on, and then consequently, fall in love.

Falling in love with a suit was much easier than falling in love with a man, and much less painful at that, as well. The suit was snug, but not too tight, hitting all of his curves just right, the end of the coat stopping just above his ass, the bottoms clinging perfectly to expose his moneymaker. The slight bit of blue did make his eyes pop, and all of the females surrounding him told him that he looked like some rich Italian golfer which was… a good thing, right? 

He almost looked like a completely different person in this suit, like he could be a much more confident version of Louis out there tonight, one that didn’t even think about some guy named Patrick at all. As some assistant carefully shoved a navy handkerchief into his front pocket, it suddenly hit him that this was for /real/. 

Louis was about to go out there tonight and meet twenty or so nervous men and embark on this weird, twisted manufactured love story together. Now that he looked the part, he just had to get there mentally, just take the experience for what it was and live it up. He smiled softly at himself in the mirror, slight scruff on his face, a bit older than he was the last time he’d come onto the set. It almost felt like a lifetime ago now, but perhaps he was finally ready to dip his toes back into the water again, no longer allowing the ocean to be poisoned with the stupid memory of his “ex”. Louis Tomlinson was a new man. A new /sexy/ man, and god dammit, he was going to get the love story that he deserved. 

It was weird to be on the other side of things now. Waiting in the limo to step out was nerve-wracking, but standing out on the pathway, out in the open, just waiting for whoever stepped out of the car was in a way oddly more vulnerable. Louis stared down at his brown fancy shoes and took deep breaths as production set up all of the lights and the microphones, making sure that everything was completely as it should be before the men started to arrive. 

His heart started to pound and because his mind thought it was fucking hilarious again, “Marry Me” by Train started to play in his head. But this time, he chuckled.  
“Now that the weight has lifted, love has surely shifted my way. Marry me today and every day.” Yeah, this was definitely his time now. Things were turning up Tomlinson. 

The first limo arrived, and Louis couldn’t hide the smile on his face as he watched it slowly come to a stop, mentally reminding himself to breathe, breathe, BREATHE, and more importantly, to just relax. He saw a blonde-haired man step out of the car, tripping just a bit, and Louis was already enamored, pretending like he hadn’t seen it. 

“Oh, don’t even worry about that.. I did the same exact thing last season! So just trip prettily enough and maybe you’ll get to be the Bachelor next season, who knows..” 

Louis smiled as he gently hugged the man, named Logan, who was a computer programmer from Seattle, and his nerves had already pretty much evaporated. These were just /guys/ after all, and they were probably a whole lot more apprehensive than he was, so someone had to be the bigger man in the situation. He politely told him that he would see him inside later and turned back around to greet the next handful of men stepping out from the limo. Paul, Anthony, and Ian, were all nice too, charming, though visibly nervous. Anthony tried to break into some joke about Patrick and how he must have lived under a rock to turn Louis down, and though he laughed in the moment, he scrunched up his nose the moment he walked away. It was just in poor taste; why start a new relationship by cracking upon the old scab that had just healed?

Thankfully, a tall man named Hudson stepped out next, loose brown curls framing his face and deep chocolate eyes begging Louis to pay attention. He was a teacher, just like Louis, and for some reason, Louis found an instant connection with him. He was gorgeous and sweet and loved children, even handing over a small collection of cards he’d had his class write out for his “future boyfriend”. Louis wished he could have stood there and talked to him all night long, but he was being waved along by the producers, genuinely grinning to himself as he hugged Hudson goodbye.

He felt bad for Kai, Jackson, Oliver, and Nick B. who were all fantastic in their own right, but his own mind was still clouded over from the interaction with Hudson, that he was sure he probably wasn’t giving them as much attention as he probably should have. The same thing went for George, Ryan, Vincent, and Sam, even though the latter came in dressed in a wedding dress which was both insane and hilarious. The dressed man did seem to jog his focus some though, so by the time Liam stepped out of the limo, he was more interactive again.

Liam was a delight as well, a strong, hunky firefighter who rescued dogs on the side, but made some lame joke about having a big hose that made Louis sputter into laughter. It was horrible, obviously, but he had just looked so earnest and innocent when he said it, that Louis couldn’t help but to be charmed. 

He happily waved and smirked as he looked back to the window, thinking to himself that this was going to be a fantastic ride if all of these guys stayed as lovely and funny as they were in their introductions. Except Anthony. He could up and get fucked. 

The next man out of the limo was the tallest out of the bunch, but not lanky as one would expect with such a height, broad shoulders contained under a pretty gray suit with a little maroon tie. Louis smiled as he took in the messy curls and beautiful.. green? Eyes. He definitely looked less conventional than some of the men here, but he was gorgeous all the same, skin light and face somewhat serious, but eager and pleased at the same time. 

The contestant looked over at Louis and instantly smiled, a bit crooked, a dimple carving itself out on his left cheek. Louis felt a little twinge in his stomach, taking in this man and everything he had to offer as he walked down the cobbled walkway, letting out a huge breath.

“Well.. hi..” The green-eyed boy opened with, his dimple sending little reminders to Louis’ brain. “My name is Harry and if I’m being honest well-… first of all I have to tell you that you look absolutely amazing tonight.. I mean. Seriously, Louis. I mean I pictured this moment all summer, but-..”

He scrunched up his face, laughing and wiping at his eyes, “God, that sounded horrendous. Let me start that over.. Just. You’re more handsome than I think I’d imagined. Real life you just doesn’t do television you any justice, I’m afraid.”

Louis smiled softly to himself and just tilted his head, content to let the other man ramble on for hours if he wanted, voice deep and slow as rich honey.

“But right. You’re gorgeous. we’ve established that. And I-..” 

“You’re gorgeous yourself too. Just thought I’d let you know. Carry on.” Louis interrupted with a smirk, causing Harry to raise an eyebrow and laugh before speaking again. 

“Jesus, thank you! I’ll carry on then.. I just wanted to let you know that I’d love to write a new love story for you.. /with/ you, I mean. Anybody in my life will tell you how obsessed I am with rom-coms and that stuff, and this is like.. the perfect one, right? Perfect set-up at least, so.. I’ll be your Noah and you can be my Allie.. You can try to push me away all you want, but I’ll always be there for you to come back to, Louis.”

Louis couldn’t help but to laugh again, gently squeezing Harry’s hands as he spoke. God, he was a giant sap, but again, Louis found himself enamored, caught up in the moment and beauty of it all. Harry was doing him in. Why would he ever want to push him away?

“Mm.. and I suppose all of these other guys are the rich men who I get distracted by for a bit before I come right back to you, yeah?”

“Now you’ve got it!!” Harry shouted out, all cheerful as he chuckled. “Anyway.. I don’t want to take up all of your time, but.. I’m a photographer. Sure, Harry, let’s just randomly pepper that fact in. Great Segway.” Another laugh from Louis, and a smile on Harry’s face. 

“So, as a professional photographer, I think we should take a picture right here.. right now. First time we met. And when we have a romantic comedy inevitably made about our love, this can be the cover.” 

Louis, of course, thought the idea was brilliant, and smiled at the camera, face nuzzled up against Harry’s, wondering how he could possibly be so lucky for this to work out as it was. And as the camera gave off a quick flash, Louis couldn’t help but hear, 

“It’s a beautiful night, we’re looking for something dumb to do. Hey, baby, I think I want to marry you.”


End file.
